


All Roads Lead to Rome

by LirielLee



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Gen, Rated for Jason's Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-28 11:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LirielLee/pseuds/LirielLee
Summary: Jason Todd is heartbroken and angry after Batman benches him for the death of Felipe Garzonas. He feels like he is about to lose his family. His only option? To find a new family. When he goes looking for Sheila Haywood, he is betrayed, beaten, and left for dead. While he prays, without much hope, for Batman to come save him, it is someone else who actually shows up to find the body of the broken Robin. With the option of a new mentor, what road will an angry Jason take and what will he find at the end of his journey?





	1. Gotham

            _Just a few quick notes for this fic. DC cannon timeline gives me a massive migraine, between reboots, rebirth, side comics, movies, tv shows, video games, and cartoons I am overwhelmed by trying to keep to the timeline for the batfamily. So, I’ll give you a quick rundown of the timeline I’m going to use for this story. Most of the history of Dick and Jason is basic and will be kept the same. After many fights with Bruce, Dick left Gotham for the Teen Titans and created Nightwing. Some time after Dick’s departure, Batman discovered street rat Jason Todd stealing the tires off of the batmobile and impressed with his intelligence and courage and worried about his future living on the streets he made the boy his new Robin. Dick and Jason have met only a few times and are not on the best of terms. This story starts just after the death of Felipe Garzonas, which Batman suspects was caused by Robin, who had been furious that the rapist was not going to face justice for his crimes.  Deathstroke’s basic history will also be kept the same but I am going with the version of him that is more mercenary with his own code than trigger-happy sadist (both have been used for him). He was given the serum that enhanced him while working for the army spec ops and is now freelancing his career. By the time my story starts he had already tried to recruit Dick to be his apprentice in the past, but other than some stalking, talking and testing, nothing truly awful happened between them. Also at the start of this story, Slade’s son Grant is already dead, having been killed by his version of his dad’s serum, and Slade is an enemy of the Teen Titans, where Dick is currently. Slade’s other son Joseph is still a minor, so pre-Jericho and his death, and is mute (per canon) and his mother keeps him away from Slade. Rose will probably make an appearance at some point, but she is still in her early teens at the start of this and Slade has been keeping a distance.  Ok, all that being said, I think I can get on with the story._

 

** Chapter 1 **

 

            Even during the day, Gotham felt dark and oppressive. It’s filthy alleys, polluted river, and crime-ridden streets were only slightly less depressing when viewed during the daylight hours than they were once night fell. The raven-haired boy staring listlessly across the smoggy rooftops of the city certainly seemed to find nothing in the weak and fading sunlight to lift his spirits. He sat on the roof edge of a decrepit building in Crime Alley in slumped dejection, his legs hanging over the edge and his arms on his knees with his head bowed down to his chest. There was no sound coming from the small figure, but the forlorn position seemed to scream his pain out to anyone watching.

            Pain was certainly not a new concept for the teenager, he thought that with all the pain in his life that he should really be used to it by now. Still, this pain felt new, deeper, more substantial than it ever had before. There had been pain from Willis Todd’s beatings, pain from watching Catherine Todd fade away with her drug use before finally finding her dead on their bathroom floor, pain from starving, pain from living on the streets, pain from the cold, pain from stabbings, pain from being ignored and neglected, pain from knowing that there was no one who loved him or even cared if he lived or died. So, what made this pain so much worse he was left wondering.

            The answer he finally came up with…was hope.

            Hope – the cruelest emotion of all.

            For a time, he had felt like he had a family; a father that loved him and an almost-grandfather that doted on him. He had hoped that that would be his new life, that the happiness he felt as Bruce’s son… as Batman’s Robin… would last, would be something he could hold onto forever.

            That foolish hope, he realized, was why it hurt more than anything else had in his life when it inevitably fell apart. He should have known better, should have known that he wasn’t meant to have that kind of happiness in his life. “Still just a stupid street rat, Todd” he thought to himself bitterly.

            After the death of Felipe Garzonas, Batman had benched the furious Robin, his suspicion that Jason had pushed the rapist to his death was all too apparent. Still, he hadn’t actually asked the teenager what had happened and Jason figured it was because the vigilante had already decided he knew what had occurred and was deciding what action he should take toward his failed protégé.  Jason knew that it was only a matter of time before Bruce officially fired him as Robin, the man was too in love with his justice to keep a murderer around.

            A murderer…. that’s what he was, Jason supposed.

            Whether he pushed Garzonas or not, he certainly hadn’t tried to catch the man. And he couldn’t dredge up any remorse for the man’s demise. Garzonas had brutally raped women and gotten away with it because of his father’s diplomatic status and after he left Gotham he would only have gone on to rape more women and ruin more lives. No, Jason could only be glad that the man was dead and couldn’t hurt anyone else. He had most definitely gotten what he deserved, some people couldn’t be saved, they could only be stopped before they hurt anyone else.

            Still... he knew Bruce would never see it that way, would never approve of the man’s death, even if it would save other women in the future. The disappointment, the cold dismissal with which he had informed Robin that he could no longer patrol with Batman broke Jason’s heart. It was clear to him that Bruce was regretting his choice to bring Jason in to the family, thought it was a mistake to make him Robin. Barbara and Dick had told Bruce in the beginning that he would never be the Robin that Grayson had been, that he would never be good enough, was too angry, and that Bruce was merely desperate after Dick’s angry departure. Jason had worked tirelessly to prove them all wrong, to be the best Robin he could, but it seemed now that it was inevitable that he would screw it up, would prove them right. Jason could see it in Bruce’s eyes; his days as Robin were numbered.

            And if he was no longer allowed to be Robin, what possible reason would Bruce have to keep Jason?

            The answer was obvious to Jason… none. There was no reason that Bruce would want Jason to keep hanging around the manor. A reminder of his failure.

            Jason knew that with the end of his days as Robin so to would come the end of his time as Bruce’s son.

            Bruce may have given Jason a home, but he wouldn’t want some street rat murderer as part of the family. Jason had thought, well hoped, that Bruce loved him and saw him as a son, but the look in Bruce’s eyes after they returned to the cave had been cold and blank. Maybe Jason had just been fooling himself this whole time. They hadn’t always gotten along, there had been more arguments lately and Jason knew that he liked to push people to their limits. Maybe Bruce was finally losing patience with the former street kid and realizing that he was never going to live up to Dick’s legacy, either as Robin or as a son.

            It was that thought which finally broke the boy’s tenuous hold on his emotions. As the sun began to set and the shadows in Gotham started to grow long, Jason Todd was overwhelmed by his pain and fear. Silent sobs shook his shoulders as tears streamed from tightly closed eyes. He was losing his only family, if Bruce didn’t want him… who would?

 

* * *

 

 

            Evening was falling in Gotham and everyone who lived there or even passed through, knew that the night belonged to Batman. Most recent job now accomplished, Slade Wilson was debating the merits of hanging around Gotham and having to deal with the Bat. He was far from afraid of the vigilante, but it was a hassle he didn’t need right now as he intended to collect the rest of his payment and then maybe check on his kids, it had been awhile since he had last seen them, even from afar. And usually when Nightwing was off with the Titans, there was little in Gotham to attract his attention. However, he had heard an interesting rumor today that might make it worth his while to stay a night and investigate.

            Slade had, of course, known about the newest Robin for a couple of years now, but Batman was keeping this bird much closer to the nest than his predecessor. With Slade’s focus on the former Robin, currently Nightwing, and Batman’s seemingly more protective tendencies towards his new protégé, he had never seen this Robin in action or even learned anything about him. The rumors he had heard today though, made him wonder if he may have been lax in his information gathering.

            The Gotham papers had been having a field day with the messy death of Felipe Garzonas, the son of a wealthy diplomat who was accused of a brutal rape that resulted in the victim’s suicide and whispers that this was not his first foray into sexual assault. The man had, of course, been released due to his father’s influence and no charges were pending against him, but then he had seemingly fallen to his death from his penthouse balcony. There was intense speculation about the death; had it been a suicide from guilt, an unfortunate accident by a drunk playboy, or a revenge murder for his crimes against women? No one seemed to know for sure. However, during the course of his job, Deathstroke had heard the most intriguing rumor about the death and it had come from a rather reliable source, the Gotham police themselves. His surveillance on his target had necessitated the master mercenary placing several bugs in key locations in the Gotham police department. This had led to him overhearing several officers talking about how it was Batman himself who had called the death in, but that the Bat had no answers for them on the cause of the man’s fall. One of the first officers on the scene claimed that he had heard Batman furiously sending Robin away just as he had arrived, leading to speculation that Robin himself may have been involved in the death.

            It was this last thought that intrigued Deathstroke. A Robin involved in a death, possibly even a murder? For all his talents and enthusiasm for a fight, Dick Grayson had made it abundantly clear that torture and murder were not lines he would cross.

            But what if the new Robin was not cut from the same cloth? There was much Deathstroke could accomplish and teach a Bat trained kid who was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done. The very idea of it had him deciding that it was most definitely worth hanging around Gotham for a few nights to get the details on the new Robin and maybe, even, a look into a long-term investment in the kid.

            Time to find a little birdie.

 

* * *

 

 

            Night had truly fallen now, and Jason knew that he would need to return to the manor before he was found by the Bat. Of course, that assumed that the man even cared enough to come look for him. Jason pulled himself to his feet with a heavy sigh, better to get back rather than risk more heartache and find out that Bruce hadn’t even noticed his absence or didn’t want to bother with finding his lost bird.

            Since Robin was benched, Jason had left the house in jeans and his favorite red hoodie, looking like any other school-age kid wandering around town. However, Jason was not stupid (no matter what Dick and Babs thought) and once he left the streets for the rooftops he had pulled his hood up to cover his face and put on the stolen domino he had brought with him. Jason Todd wandering around Gotham was one thing, Jason Todd free-running and jumping rooftops in Gotham at night might bring on unwanted attention and questions.

            Jason was only half-way across town on his way back to the manor when he felt a tingle in the base of his skull that told him he was being watched. Casually continuing his speed, he started a zig-zag pattern of jumps that allowed him to glance behind him without being noticed.

            There it was – two buildings back a large shadow had definitely moved and then disappeared again. He was being followed.

            A large part of Jason wanted to immediately turn around and demand to know what his stalker wanted. Hell, a fight might even make him feel better right now, he was certainly in the mood for one. However, a small sliver of common sense reminded him that he wasn’t Robin right now and didn’t have any of his usual toys if he ran into real trouble. Not to mention, if he did get caught in a fight as a civilian it would just give Bruce even more reason to be disappointed in him and would lead to the loss of Robin even faster.

            With a groan, Jason veered left to jump on a fire escape and get to the ground where he could lose his pursuer in the busy streets.

            Suddenly a large shape jumped over the edge of the roof right where Jason had been about to make his own jump. Moving instinctively, Jason rolled to the side just as a large fist swung towards his unprotected stomach. Jason came out of his roll several feet away and perched on the balls of his feet, ready to move quickly. However, the figure hadn’t attacked again and Jason heard a low chuckle emanate from the shadow.

            “Who the fuck are you?” Jason demanded, refusing to feel any fear at the unexpected development.

            Slade Wilson stepped out of the shadows with a smirk.

            Ok, Jason decided, maybe a little fear was called for when suddenly facing down god dam Deathstroke… without any weapons… or trackers… and without Batman knowing where he was. Fucking Deathstroke?! Really?! What the hell was he doing here? If he was lucky the man wouldn’t know who he was, after all Slade had ever only shown interest in Grayson.

            “I’m surprised to see a little Robin out running around Gotham without his feathers. Lose your costume little bird?” Slade commented causally.

            Fine, so the man did indeed know who he was, figures he wouldn’t be that lucky.

            “Deathstroke,” Jason spat, refusing to be cowed. “Nightwing isn’t here right now for you to play with. So why don’t you run along, I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”

            Jason fully expected a punch to the face for his cheek towards the mercenary, however Slade only chuckled in response.

            “Oh, I’m well aware that Grayson’s not here right now. But it occurred to me that I really hadn’t met the new bird yet and I decided to rectify my lapse in manners,” and Slade took a deliberate step towards Jason.

            “Should I feel flattered?” Jason sneered, taking his own step back. He wasn’t retreating, he told himself, he was just leaving space between them so he had room to act. “Cuz I gotta tell you, I really fucking don’t.”

            Slade chuckled again at Jason’s belligerent attitude. “I don’t go out of my way for just anyone, but I’m not sure yet if you really are worth my time,” he goaded the teenager.

            “You mean like Grayson is?” Jason growled, the familiar pain of being compared to the Golden Boy and found lacking was always near the surface, a fear he couldn’t shake.

            Slade smirked. “Grayson is remarkable, his talent undeniable. How do you measure up?” Slade sneered in a clear challenge.

            Jason had to admit, that even when he knew it was a really bad idea, he just couldn’t walk away from a challenge thrown in his face. Slade’s mocking tone and the knowledge that he would never stop being seen as less than his predecessor added to the stress of the last few days and Jason’s fraying temper almost audibly snapped.

            Angry and hurting, Jason lashed out at Deathstroke, just as the man had intended. Jason lunged at the older man, but even in his rage he didn’t forget his training. Instead of the punch, he was sure Deathstroke was expecting, Jason feinted to the side and then lashed out with a fast round-house kick. Slade easily evaded the kick with his enhanced speed and then moved to put the teenager on the defensive. The duo traded kicks and punches as they moved around the rooftop in a brutal dance. Jason had watched videos of Deathstroke in action and knew that the man was holding back, if only a little, leading him to the conclusion that he was being tested just as Dick had been when Slade was first interested in him. Knowing that, for all his training, he would never be the acrobat that Dick was and that he could never match Slade’s enhanced strength, Jason decided to use the dirty tricks he had learned living on the streets. Batman hadn’t managed to train the street fighter mentality out of Jason completely and the boy knew it might be the only thing to help him now as Slade most likely wasn’t expecting it after having fought Batman and Nightwing in the past.

            Jason was starting to tire so on the next opening he saw he feinted downward to make it look like he was going to sweep Slade’s legs out from under him and instead he lashed out at the last second with his fist right into Slade’s groin. Yeah, the mercenary was enhanced, but Jason figured a strike to the balls would hurt anyone. He had the satisfaction of hearing a surprised grunt from Deathstroke and seeing the man take a small step back. Jumping on his one opportunity Jason threw another punch, knowing that even hurting (at least a little) Slade would easily block it. But instead of following up the block with his next attack, Jason used it to spin himself inside Slade’s space, grab that forearm that had just been up to block him and latched his teeth onto the man’s wrist.

Slade swore viciously and clutched his bleeding wrist in shock, grudgingly impressed with the kid’s dirty move, definitely not something he had learned from Batman or Nightwing.

     Using Deathstroke’s surprise to his advantage, Jason jumped away from the fight and over the edge of the building to where he knew the fire escape was. He slid down the metal stairs and then sprinted into the street, pulling off the domino mask as he hit the lighted section of pavement. If Deathstroke really wanted to chase him down, Jason knew nothing he did could stop the mercenary, but Slade usually avoided collateral damage and large crowds so Jason hoped he could use that to complete his escape. He ran through the streets of Gotham, constantly on the watch for the enhanced killer, but saw nothing to indicate that he was being pursued. As he approached the manor he realized that the fight with Deathstroke had at least taken his mind off of his fears of being kicked out. He chuckled darkly, he may have to thank Deathstroke next time he saw the man for his unintended help.

           

           

           

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 


	2. Needing Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 2 already, I'm surprised with how fast I got this posted considering it turned out longer than I had planned. If it's not clear, the section in italics are flashbacks, I don't really like labels in the middle of chapters, I find it distracting. Hope you enjoy this next section.

** Chapter 2 **

 

            Jason was too excited to sleep, his body almost thrumming with nervous energy. This was his chance to have a family, to find a place where he belonged.

 The last two days had shown him without a doubt that Gotham and Wayne Manor were not his home.

 

         _Bruce had continued ignoring him, his tense silences and brooding looks had driven Jason to spend most of his time in his room. Because he was happy to ignore Bruce too, he told himself, definitely not because he was hiding. Unfortunately, the downside of staying in his room was that he was also spending less time with Alfred._

_He loved Alfred._

_He missed Alfred._

_The faithful butler had not lectured Jason on his anger or questioned him on the death of Garzonas, apparently content to wait until Jason was ready to talk about it. However, Jason could see the sadness, the quiet disappointment, in his pseudo-grandfather’s eyes and he knew that he had put it there. Just another reason to prefer the solitude of his room over the turbulent feelings brought on by being around Alfred and Bruce. All he needed was Nightwing to show up and give Bruce an ‘I told you so’ speech in regards to Jason’s unsuitability to be Robin to make his misery complete. Thankfully the Golden Boy was still with the Titans and Jason hadn’t heard anything from him._

_Although, he supposed Bruce could have heard from his former protégé and Jason knew that he probably wouldn’t even know about it. Between being benched as Robin and his refusal to leave his room he could have missed a message of any kind. It might have been helpful, he reflected, to be able to talk to someone who had already gone through their own falling out with their father figure. Dick might have actually had some advice on how to deal with an angry and quiet Bruce due to all the original duos fights over the years. “Not that he would have shared it with me though,” Jason thought bitterly. Although they didn’t fight with each other, Jason had overheard enough disparaging comments over the years he was Robin to know exactly what Dick thought of him and to know that Dick would probably be thrilled that Jason and Bruce’s relationship was now as strained as Dick and Bruce’s._

_Strained, was probably putting it mildly. In the last 24 hours, his relationship with Bruce had imploded._

_He had come home from his confrontation with Deathstroke to a quiet house. Alfred had informed him that Bruce was in the cave and he feared Bruce’s rejection too much to go down there and tell him what had happened. A peaceful and quiet meal with Alfred was interrupted by Bruce calling for Alfred to go down to the cave to run coms for him as he went out. The fact that he hadn’t asked Jason had soured the boys’ mood again and he had quickly fled back to his room, ignoring Alfred’s soft call to him._

_It was there, in his room, that Jason found the information that had sent him on his current mission._

_Desperately trying to find something to occupy himself with and forget that usually he would be out on patrol at that time of night, Jason had been digging through his closet looking for a book that he had misplaced. There he had found a box tucked in the back of his closet. He remembered this box. It contained the few remaining items of his previous life. After Catherine’s death, when Jason had been living on the streets, a helpful neighbor who had sometimes made Jason cookies had gathered a few items she thought might be important and had kept them at her apartment in case Jason ever showed back up. There had been times during his first year with Bruce that he had simply been overwhelmed with his new life and had gone to see his old place, trying to keep some memories of his mom alive. During one of these visits the elderly lady had seen him and had given him the box of saved mementos. Jason had glanced through it at the time, but still grieving Catherine’s death and occupied with his training as Robin, he had only given the items a cursory glance. Bored and needing a distraction Jason had opened the box and dug through its contents._

_Most of the trinkets inside brought up bittersweet memories, but it was his birth certificate that had him in shock. The paperwork was water damaged, but it clearly showed that the name in the mother’s line was not Catherine Todd. It began with an S…_

_Catherine had not been his mother?!_

_Had Bruce known? Had he kept this from Jason?_

_And so his investigation had begun. He delved into his parents’ past as well as he could and still keep his search hidden from Batman. It was in an old list of contacts that had belonged to Willis Todd that he found the name Sheila Haywood. She had known Willis Todd during the right time frame for Jason’s conception and from an online picture he managed to pull of her, Jason thought they had several features in common. She was currently an aid worker in Ethiopia._

 

            All this lead Jason to where he was now, on the run from Batman and on his way to find Sheila and hopefully get some answers… and maybe… even… a mother. He tried desperately not to hope. Hope only led to heartache. Yet, even knowing that, Jason couldn’t let this opportunity for a family that might truly want him to pass him by.

            Jason smiled in anticipation as the plane started its’ descent into Ethiopia.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            The last few days of research had led to some interesting information, at the very least.

            The new Robin was named Jason Todd and he was a former street rat from Crime Alley taken in by Bruce Wayne over two years ago. Six months after his adoption by Wayne, the new Robin had made his debut alongside Batman.

            Slade had managed to get his hands on some footage of Robin fighting beside both Batman and the Titans led by Nightwing. There wasn’t much, but the little he could find and the mention of Crime Alley had stirred something in his memory. Underneath all the bat-training, something in the videos and in his own fight with the boy had seemed vaguely familiar. One of the gossip columns from the time of his adoption had mocked Wayne’s decision by calling Jason a “surly, ill-tempered boy whose life on the streets made him fit to be a pick-pocket and a thug, but certainly not a member of the Gotham elite.”

            The mention of pick-pocketing combined with Crime Alley and the kids’ fighting style had finally triggered the memory Slade was searching for. Of a scrawny yet tough street kid who had briefly caught his eye years ago.

 

            _Adrenaline still running high after his fight with Robin (the kid had real talent, if only he could be convinced to leave Batman’s side) Slade paused in Gotham Square to observe the group of holiday shoppers that had gathered to watch the lighting of the Gotham Christmas Tree. He had no intention of loitering with this rabble but the crush of people around him made him take a step back for a moment. No point in drawing attention to himself by using his size to push through the throng. That was when he saw the kid, stealthily making his way through the crowd. Unkempt and too thin, Slade recognized a street kid when he saw one. This one was about 10 or 11 years old, hard to tell for sure because of how small and malnourished he was, with black hair and defiant blue eyes.  He noticed the kid smoothly reaching into pockets and purses and lifting any valuables he could. It was nicely done and Slade watched the kid for a bit, entertained by the skill the street rat exhibited. Still, desperate homeless kids, even ones with some skill, weren’t an uncommon sight and after a few moments the kid moved deeper into the mass of people and Slade found an open path he could easily slip through to head to his next appointment._

_It was after his meet-up with a low-level contact, as he sauntered without fear through the dark streets of Crime Alley, that his attention was caught by the sounds of a scuffle and a shout from a shadowed and filthy alley. Curiosity and the hope to run into Robin again had him duck into the alley, keeping to the shadows along one decrepit wall. Disappointed that there were only some wretched kids fighting and not Robin, Slade prepared to slip back out into the street. However, he realized with a start that he recognized the scrawny kid getting pushed around by three older boys as the pick-pocket from the holiday square earlier. The kid had his chin up and a sneer on his face as the teenage boys demanded money from him. Slade had to stifle a chuckle as the kid vehemently and with extremely colorful language told the three hoodlums exactly where they could get lost to. He was going to get his ass royally kicked the mercenary reflected ruefully, still it wasn’t his issue. The rats of the street had to take care of their own problems._

_If the kid lived, he would learn a lesson from this._

_Hopefully._

_Slade watched as the first thug finally lost his patience and threw a punch at the dark-haired boy who was half the size of his attackers. The three assailants were as surprised as Slade when the kid managed to duck under the punch and deftly dealt a punch of his own. Straight to the groin of the goon to his right._

_The fight was on in earnest now and Slade wondered what the hell the boy was thinking. He was only about 10 years old, against three teenagers, there was no way he could win. Then he noticed that the kids’ attacks were as dirty as he could make them and they were distracting the enraged attackers. Very quickly Slade realized that the kid was using his attacks to try and create an opening between the older boys so that he could escape._

_It took a few minutes, but his strategy worked.  The raven-haired kid stuck out a foot and one of the boys tripped over the smaller kid and stumbled into his friends. For a moment, all three lost sight of the younger boy and he took his opportunity to slip into the shadows and through a tiny hole in the fence behind him. In a flash, he had disappeared into the chaos of the city._

_A talented kid, and smart too, Slade thought as he walked back to his hotel. It was a shame he probably wouldn’t live to see 16._

_A kid like that, alone on the streets already at his age. He’d get shot or knifed before he hit puberty. Shame really. But still not his problem._

 

     The face in the new clippings from when he was adopted were not much older than the boy had been when Slade had seen him fighting in Crime Alley. Wayne must have found him shortly after, maybe a year, but not much more than that. That would be about the time that Dick Grayson had taken off on his own and created Nightwing. Slade wasn’t one for gossip, but he dearly wished he knew how that had all gone down. How had Wayne found the kid? Or was it Batman who had found him? And was he meant to be Grayson’s replacement because Dick had already left to be Nightwing or had he only left when Wayne had brought home a new kid?

     Well, he could always ask the kid when he ran into him again. Because Slade could admit that he was even more intrigued by the kid, by Jason, now than he had been before. The kid knew how to fight, of course he did, he had been trained by the Bat; but he knew how to fight dirty even before then. He was stealthy, tough, and cocky… a child of the Gotham streets that now had the education and training of the best money could buy courtesy of Bruce Wayne.

     Yep, he would definitely be paying this little bird a visit in the near future.

     From his modest hotel room (no need to draw attention to himself) Slade continued to research Jason Todd, analyzing what method might work best to appeal to the boy to change mentors. Someone who wouldn’t be angry at him for his involvement in the death of a scumbag rapist was certainly a start, but Slade wanted to know all he could about Jason before he made his next move.  His failure to recruit Grayson stung a bit and Slade had no intentions of letting such a promising student slip through his grasp a second time.

     The information on Jason’s background was patchy, but that wasn’t truly surprising due to where he came from. As an unwanted street urchin, a child of a criminal father and drug addict mother, there was no one who was interested in keeping tabs on Jason Todd before Bruce Wayne came into his life.

     For some reason the name Willis Todd, Jason’s listed father, sounded somewhat familiar to Slade. He sat back from his research and sipped his glass of whiskey contemplatively. Where had he heard that name before? It certainly hadn’t been any important, he knew that. However, in his line of work he had all types of contacts in many walks of life, and thanks to his enhancements he had a near perfect memory. He knew the name from somewhere, he just had to remember where.

     Todd… and Gotham, the man had to have been from here for his kid to end up on the streets in this hellhole. No one traveled to Gotham to live on the streets.

     So, when had he encountered Willis Todd in Gotham?

     In the end, it only took him 10 minutes of going through his past business in Gotham (that didn’t include Grayson) to remember a job that brought him in contact with Two-Face… and Willis Todd.

     The memory slipped into place. Yes, he had met a Willis Todd while delivering an expensive and highly volatile package to Two-Face more than 15 years ago. Big guy, tough, but worn down by life in Gotham and not nearly clever enough to be a true player. The job had been a bit of a joke for a man of his talents, but he had only taken it to get a look at the weaponry he was delivering. His plan was to guard and deliver the goods, taking the time to study the weapons, and then backtrack them to the manufacturer and get some for himself, cutting out the middle man that had offered him the job in the first place.

     He had ended up spending a week in Gotham, networking and gathering intel. Willis Todd had been handling some of the transfer on Two-Face’s side, Slade had not been impressed with the man. He was a nobody and there was no surprise that he had ended up getting killed in jail years ago.

     So, that man was Jason’s father? Slade didn’t think they looked much alike, the hair color and jawline perhaps. The kid was certainly smarter than Willis. Maybe he had taken after his mother. A quick search on Catherine Todd made Slade dismiss that thought. After seeing a grainy photo of her from some high school reunion page, he remembered that he had actually seen her once when Willis showed up to one of their meetings with her in the car and then had sent her off quickly. She was a frail, wispy girl with light brown hair and brown eyes that had scanned the drop-off location timidly before Willis sent her on her way. No, Jason didn’t seem to take after either one of his parents, still genetics could be a funny thing. His own kids had physical traits that seemed to come from their grandparents or aunts and uncles rather than their mother or himself.

     Pulling up a photo of Jason from some charity event he had attended with Wayne and then comparing it to old pictures of Willis and Catherine, he felt he was missing something crucial. The serum had enhanced his mind along with everything else, and there were times, like now, that it was telling him something before his conscious thoughts could catch up to it.

     He kept his gaze on the photos, but let his mind wander a bit. The answer would come to him.

     The eyes.

     Willis Todd had flat gray eyes. Catherine had sad and scared brown eyes. Jason had a memorable color that Slade had not encountered before. Teal. His eyes were clearly a mix of blue and green that appeared more teal than anything else.

    Wait.

     He had encountered that color before.

     On a woman he had met in Gotham at the same time as he met Willis. She had been a beauty. Educated, charming, a Gotham socialite with enough brains and beauty to expect the world to fall at her feet. If he remembered correctly, she loved to ensnare any man she came across that caught her fancy. Most were just for fun. But Slade could tell she was just looking for the right man that she could manipulate into getting her away from Gotham and into the life of ease and style that she wanted.

     He didn’t know how she became involved with Gotham’s seedy underworld, but it was clear that she had no moral qualms about anything that got her closer to her goal. She had quickly set her sights on him as her meal ticket out. Slade, however, was no fool. He had zero interest in an attachment to such an opportunistic schemer, never mind how seductive or charming she was. Hadn’t stopped him from having a bit of fun with her though while he was in town.

     Once she became aware that he was not susceptible to her manipulations and that he had no intention of taking her with him, she had moved her sights on to some of the players in Gotham’s crime circuit, still looking for someone of power to take an interest in her.

     Remembering her unusual teal eyes and dark hair, Slade had to wonder if Willis Todd was one of the men she had moved on to. Another quick photo comparison showed that Jason Todd had more features in common with her than either of his proclaimed parents.

     Slade Wilson was a calculating man, he excelled at strategy. Pouring himself another glass of whiskey, he pondered this new information and planned on how he could use it to achieve his own goal. He would need confirmation he knew. Willis Todd was dead, Catherine Todd was dead, and anyone who may have known the two of them and young Jason was probably long dead as well.

     Perhaps it was time to take a trip. He needed facts and proof before he could use this information to entice Jason to trust him. Bats was unlikely to let the little bird out of the manor anytime soon after the Garzonas fiasco, especially if Jason had told his mentor about the encounter with Slade. So, another tactic was necessary.

     Slade bought the next ticket out of Gotham that would connect him with transportation to Ethiopia.

     It was time to have a long talk with Sheila Haywood.

 

 

****

 


	3. Ethiopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayed and broken, Jason wonders if anyone cared enough to come save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after 40 minutes of swearing and trying to figure out what was going wrong, I think I finally have it. I didn't notice but my word program automatically changed my colon/parenthesis face into an actual emoji, didn't ask me or give me an option, and the website couldn't read it right so the whole chapter wouldn't work. GRRRRRR!!!!! But a huge Thank You to the readers who noticed it and let me know right away, I really appreciate it!

_This section references the plot of Batman comics # 426-429 “A Death in the Family” released in 1988 which shows the death of Jason Todd at the hands of the Joker. As this is a well-known incident from the comics I am not going to go into the whole plot in this chapter, most of us know how it goes. If you don’t, I suggest reading the 4-part series,  it's always a good read. I describe it somewhat, but my guess is that most of my readers will already be familiar with the scene. Just a heads up for those who might be confused. Thanks._

****

** Chapter 3 **

****

            This whole plan may have been a mistake, Jason thought numbly to himself as he coughed up more blood. His broken ribs screamed in protest at the movement and his vision grayed out for a moment.

Yeah, definitely not one of his better ideas.

            A few feet away he could hear the pained groans and frantic pleas from Sheila Haywood, his mother…the mother who had betrayed him and handed him over to the Joker. The same mother that was now laying broken beside him, apparently stunned that the Joker had turned on her as well after he had finished beating Jason to a bloody pulp. Jason wanted to scoff at her foolishness in not realizing that the Joker would hurt anyone just for the joy in it, no one was safe, but he found he couldn’t really get the sound past his split and bleeding lips even if he had had the ability to draw in enough breathe to try.

            Then again, maybe his own brand of stupidity came from her. Jason certainly hadn’t been expecting her to trick him into entering the warehouse by saying the Joker had already left and that she needed his help. He hadn’t expected the gun she pulled on him as she called out to the Joker. And he really hadn’t been expecting her to sit around in bored detachment smoking cigarettes as the Joker beat him to death with a bloody crowbar.

            Yup, he could absolutely see the family resemblance now.

            Dragging his mutilated body towards the door that Joker and his goons had left through, Jason had to wonder why it was his lot in life to be betrayed and abandoned by anyone he considered family. Certainly, Willis Todd had never given a damn about his son. Catherine Todd may have cared, but her resentment for getting stuck with him had come through in the end, before she let the drugs take her away permanently. Bruce Wayne had offered him a life and home, but even that had been revealed as a lie as soon as Jason had shown his true colors to the man he had desperately wanted to love him. And now Sheila Haywood… his last hope… had handed him over to a deranged psychopath and nonchalantly watched as his life was ripped away.

            Hope was never a good thing, he decided.

            A glance up showed that the door he had managed to reach was locked and barred from the outside… no escape there then, not that he really expected there to be. Life had never handed anything over to Jason Todd… why would it start now?

            Jason looked back to the bomb ticking away and then over to the limp form of the woman who had landed them in this mess. He noted that her whimpers were becoming weaker and were starting to taper off.

            Well, he supposed he couldn’t really blame her, Jason thought with a ragged sigh. He was the one who had gone looking for her. He was the one who had wanted a mother so badly that he hadn’t stopped and thought it through before trusting her. It was because he was Robin that Joker had grabbed both of them and now left them for dead.

            The one good thing in his life… Robin… the one thing he could be proud of. Maybe Barbara and Dick had been right all along… maybe he had never deserved to be Robin.

            Robin had been magic.

            Street rats didn’t deserve magic.

            Jason’s hand slipped in the pool of blood forming underneath him as he tried to turn himself back around. Broken bones shifted and stabbed as he moved and Jason released a pained groan, wanting nothing more than to give up and let the blackness take him.

            Giving up had never been something Jason was good at.

            Even now he couldn’t stop himself from desperately wishing that Bruce would swoop in and save the day… would save him. A stupidly naïve wish he realized as his arm finally gave out from beneath him and his face smashed into the concrete. Why would Bruce come save him? Bruce had taken Robin, had realized that Jason was worthless as a son, just as all his other parental figures had eventually. Bruce wasn’t going to come save his broken former Robin. Jason had to wonder if he was even worth saving.

            The strangely loud ticking of the bomb drew his fragmenting attention and Jason knew that there was no time left for anyone to save him. No one really cared and he was too tired and unfocused to find any way to save himself.

            Just before he lost consciousness, Jason thought he heard the concussive sound of metal being blown open. “Huh, guess the time was wrong,” was his last thought.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

            Slade had been quite surprised to track Sheila Haywood down to a humanitarian camp in Ethiopia, helping others and living rough had never been her style after all. Her location made more sense once he figured out that she was using the camp as a cover as she embezzled their money and hid out from anyone who might be looking for her. Apparently, she hadn’t hidden well enough though, he thought with disgust. He had been watching her for only a few days, wanting as much information on her as he could get before they had their chat, and in that short time he had seen her argue with and grudgingly hand over envelopes of money to what he was fairly sure were henchmen of the Joker.

            Really? The Joker? What the hell had the bitch got herself into?

            Slade had no interest in interfering in whatever the foolish woman had involved herself in, he was only waiting to have a quick talk with her and then he would be on his way. Although, now knowing of her connection to the deranged clown, he was pondering the wisdom of talking to her at all. Would any information she may have on the son she had given up at birth even be worth the hassle of having to deal with the Joker? He was not here to save her from her mistakes after all and if she was part of Joker’s crew in anyway then he really didn’t want anything to do with her.

            Unfortunately, he was not the only one wanting to have a talk with Sheila. Only days after tracking her down, and before he decided if she was even worth the trouble, Slade found that the little bird he was after had come looking for answers as well. After finding out about the sudden appearance of Jason Todd, Slade kept waiting for the Bat to show up as he usually did, but so far there were no sightings. Had the boy actually slipped free from Batman’s leash and come on his own?

     Slade had to admire that kind of tenacity, it was certainly something he could make use of in an apprentice.

     If the potential apprentice survived the night of course.

     All of the intel Slade had gathered told him that Todd believed Haywood was his mother and that the kid was hoping for some kind of loving reunion. Poor idiot. Slade knew better. Sheila was an entitled, selfish bitch, and he didn’t doubt she would sell out her own kid if it meant saving her skin from anything unpleasant.

     Which was why a fully armed Deathstroke was speeding out to an isolated warehouse in the desert that Joker was using as a temporary base. It wasn’t really any of his concern if the stupid kid had gotten grabbed by the Joker because of Haywood…. but…he really hated losing.

     Having decided that the angry Robin was going to be his new apprentice, he felt it would be a strike against his pride and talents if the lunatic clown took the kid down first. Nope, he may have lost his chance with the first Robin, but this little bird **would** belong to Deathstroke and he wasn’t willing to lose the kid to some psycho in love with his face paint.

     Getting through the desolate landscape and to the remote warehouse took longer than Slade was happy with. He had to wonder if there would be anything left of the kid by the time he got there. Well, surviving an encounter with Joker, without the help of Batsy, was a great test for the boy and would give Slade valuable information on his apprentice’s strengths and endurance.

     There… the warehouse was in view, and still there had been no sign of the Bat the whole time he had been racing out here. Had Batman really abandoned his little bird to the whims of the Joker or was the man still unaware of the fate of his lost Robin? Either way, Slade knew he had to be cautious and so he pulled the rugged JEEP he was using over behind a sand dune and killed the engine. He would approach on foot and gather intel before he made any move.

     Deathstroke was stealthily using the shadows provided by the dark night to approach the warehouse when Joker himself stepped out of the door and ordered his henchmen to bolt it behind him. Slade paused and stayed perfectly still as he crouched next to the metal wall of the building, listening for any information the demented carnival freak might reveal about Robin.

     Fortunately, the clown was quite verbose when he was feeling particularly proud of a “joke” he was pulling off. Slade overheard mention of a “broken little bird” which was undoubtedly Robin, and Joker’s speculation of how hilarious it would be in less than five minutes when the Bat arrived too late to save his damaged protégé. From the shadows, the mercenary watched the Joker give the warehouse a last look of unholy glee before he joined his minions in the waiting vehicles.

     “Wish I could wait around for your reunion with Batsy,” the clown yelled out to the warehouse, “but I’m sure it will be explosive!” Joker cackled maliciously at his own joke and then gestured for his men to get them on their way.

     Deathstroke waited in the darkness until he was sure the Joker had truly left, pondering what he had heard. He could infer that Robin was in the building and probably injured quite seriously, it also seemed likely that the five-minute remark meant that there was a timer counting down, so probably a bomb, and finally Joker mentioned a reunion between Robin and Batman meaning the vigilante was on his way but Joker thought he wouldn’t get here in time to save his sidekick.

     Perfect

     Slade figured it all meant that he had less than three minutes to get into the warehouse, assess the damage to Robin, grab the kid, and flee before either a bomb went off or Batman showed up. As he ran over to the barred door, Slade considered disarming the bomb when he found it, but decided that it would take too long if he wanted time to abscond with the boy before Bats got too close. He pulled the bolt back on the door and pushed against it, but it refused to budge, either stuck or locked from the inside. Well, brute force was useful when he lacked time for finesse. The metal was too thick to hear any noises from the other side, so Slade would just have to hope that the kid wasn’t up against the door when he kicked it in.

     He pulled back slightly and centered himself before aiming a powerful kick at the door that blew it open with a loud ringing bang. Stalking in to the warehouse, Slade quickly saw the bloody form of Jason Todd slumped down on the ground not far from the door. A cursory glance around showed that Joker hadn’t left any men behind to ensure his plan, but there in the center of the floor was the motionless body of Sheila Haywood. It looked like Jason had been trying to crawl back towards the beaten woman before his body gave out on him. So, Joker had turned on her, Slade surmised, not exactly a surprise, the clown didn’t care who he hurt as long as he had fun doing it.

     Well, it didn’t really matter to Slade whether she lived or not, the woman was a nuisance and he didn’t want her around while he trained his new apprentice. Ignoring Sheila’s broken body, Deathstroke stepped further into the room, looking for the bomb he was fairly certain was somewhere nearby.

     And yep, there it was, sitting on a crate not far from Sheila. The countdown proclaimed that Slade had two minutes to get the boy out of here and get a safe distance away before the whole building blew up. Life wouldn’t be fun without a little challenge he decided.

     Quick strides took Slade to the side of Robin and he hoped that the kid wasn’t already dead, he certainly looked like he’d taken enough damage that he might be. Reaching out, he was relieved to feel a thready, shallow pulse and stuttered painful sounding breaths from the body at his feet. Alright, the kid was alive for now. Time to grab him and disappear.

     Todd obviously had multiple broken bones and lacerations and most likely internal injuries and bleeding, but Slade didn’t have time to be gentle. He threw the boy over his shoulder and viewed the puddles of blood gathered around the floor speculatively. There was enough blood here to make Batman doubt that Robin could survive…and if Slade made sure the bomb gutted the warehouse then the lack of a body might not be suspicious enough for Bats to keep looking for his sidekick.

     Decided on his course of action, Slade strode out of the doomed building with the bloody body of Jason Todd in his arm. As they breached the doorway, Deathstroke used his free hand to reach into one of his pockets and pull out several small incendiary spheres. He casually tossed them back into the warehouse, when the bomb went off, the fire would trigger these explosives as well and the destruction of the structure would be total and complete.

     The boy he carried never regained consciousness, but the occasional sound of a pained whimper or gasping breath confirmed that he was alive for the moment. Slade never once glanced back at Sheila Haywood. If the woman wasn’t dead yet then she soon would be and either way he wouldn’t have to worry about her again. He wasn’t sure what had happened between her, Jason, and the Joker, but if Jason was upset that she was dead then Slade would simply tell him that she was dead before Slade got into the building. Although, he had his suspicions that Sheila was in no way innocent for the state that Robin was in.

     Trying not to jostle the injured boy too much, Slade moved as fast as he dared over the sand dunes and towards his waiting vehicle. He had just reached his JEEP and was laying Jason gingerly on the back seat when the bomb exploded. The concussive blast was near deafening, even with several sand dunes shielding them. Several quick, slightly smaller blasts followed the first, his own devices ensuring that there would be nothing left for Batman to find. Fire lit up the night sky, a beacon for anyone to see, and Slade knew that they had to get moving. If Batman didn’t know where the Joker had taken Robin before, then he certainly did now.

     Keeping an eye out for any falling debris that might get too close to them, Slade quickly assessed Jason’s injuries. He didn’t have time for a comprehensive check, but as he didn’t want the kid bleeding out before they got somewhere safe he needed to treat the most serious wounds immediately. Slade pulled a first aid kit out from under a seat and with practiced ease and speed, he patched up the most serious gashes to stop any bleeding and then used the seatbelts and some extra rope he had in the back to safely fasten the kid to the seat and immobilize him so his injuries wouldn’t be aggravated during the drive across the desert.

     Slade knew that more treatment would be needed, but if Todd lived until they made it somewhere secure then he was confident he could find a doctor to fix the kid up. If necessary, Slade even had access to the serum that had given him his enhancements, he would consider using it on Jason if it looked like the kid was going to die. Although, that had severe side effects and concerns to be considered as well.

     The roar of the fire covered the noise of his vehicle starting up and Slade was careful to keep the lights off as he started maneuvering the JEEP around the sand dunes. He planned to avoid the main road, if it could be called that, leading to the warehouse because if Joker was correct, then it was likely that Batman would be on that road any moment heading in this direction. And even as the thought of Bats crossed his mind, Slade saw a black vehicle speeding towards the burning warehouse and skidding to a stop just beyond the reach of the flames.

     Ah, the Dark Knight was finally making an appearance.

     “You’re too late Bats,” Slade scoffed quietly to himself. Illuminated against the smoldering wreckage, he could see the dark silhouette of the vigilante desperately attempting to get close enough to look for his son. “Even if I hadn’t grabbed him, you’d be too late as Joker’s trap would have killed him. But now he’s mine.” Using the dunes as cover, Slade sped off into the night with his unconscious prize.

     “Robin is dead, time for Renegade to rise from the ashes.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Batman fic, I hope I did the characters justice, but if anyone has any pointers please feel free to let me know, I always appreciate constructive criticism.


End file.
